


Locking Up

by risquetendencies



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, NSFW, imayoshi being a cruel senpai, in a fun way, otp battle 2014 entry, shady employers are shady, sorry mai-chan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:51:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aomine probably should have declined the job, but then again, money was money and feeding his Mai-chan addiction had never been easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locking Up

"This fucking place," he muttered half-heartedly, narrowly cast eyes scanning the listing of open positions that was tacked up against the common room wall.

The cork board was teeming with a multitude of flyers – it was evidential that Touou was invested in providing opportunities for its students to glean employment, only, that fact pissed the indigo-haired teen off more. The last thing he desired was for it to be _easy_ to get the job he never wanted in the first place.

His mother was going to shove that fact right in his face if he showed no signs of beating the pavement, Aomine knew well enough. She’d find out the school was this proactive and she’d say he had no excuse not to be attending interviews each week. This whole debacle was her fault after all.

Many years of being an only child had tempered Daiki to getting what he wanted. It wasn’t that he expected to, it was simply that he’d always been spoiled before so it was a given that he’d continue to be provided for.

That was, until the prior Sunday, when out of the blue his old lady decided that he’d grow up rotten the way things were headed. She’d become all self-righteous and made the decision that she was no longer going to hand out pocket money to her ne’er-do-well son whenever he asked for it. Through that selfless act, she was going to… save him… or something. Daiki was utterly gobsmacked by it still so he couldn’t explain where the woman had come up with that harebrained scheme. He hadn’t done anything to merit it, as far as he knew.

So now, if he wanted any cash to play with, he was going to be forced to work for it.

The idea caused Aomine to grumble audibly, looking on at the various hiring posts with marked disdain. Clenching one hand into a claw-like stance, the youth shot forward, grabbing at the first unwilling paper to fall into the trap of his fist. Because, after all, who cared enough about something like a stupid part-time job to weigh their options delicately? He’d just take whatever this fateful position was and deal with it.

Money was money.

* * *

It was with a stiff posture and barely controlled dumbfounded expression that Aomine entered the establishment the flyer had advertised for.

Of course, the disaster impending could have been prevented had the teen actually read where it was he was applying to, but that would have been too logical for him to follow. He’d grabbed the paper, fished out a year old resume that he’d had to make in a general studies course, and set on his way, sparing one casual glance for the address listed on the cherry-red poster.

What he’d walked up to however, was far worse than he could have predicted. His golden chance? It was in a sex shop.

Gobsmacked, yet mostly undeterred, Daiki paused for only a few moments outside the store before bravely marching in. It seemed borderline inappropriate for a high-schooler to be offered a position in an establishment like this one, but hey, if the owners were willing to bend the rules and pay him, he was fine with that. It wasn’t really his business how people wanted to do their hiring. So long as he got something lined up to get his mother off his back, all was well in the world.

The interior of the joint was more brightly-lit than he’d expected - shadowy rooms and neon lights made up the gist of his prior notions of what a sex shop would entail. Instead, it seemed like any other chain store, with rows of displays and stock, clean lines, and a long counter against one wall where smaller items were showcased and where the register was enthroned. Background noise a few steps above elevator music sounded and at first, no employee was immediately noticeable. That was, until he heard a harried feminine voice calling to him, “You there, boy!”

Shuffling to look toward the back of the shop, Daiki scouted out the source of the call. A middle-aged brunette was flagging him down even as she hurried in his direction. The youth briefly raised his hand to indicate he’d noticed, but paused, waiting in the exact spot he had already been standing. No need to meet in the middle if she was bent on approaching him as it was.

"I assume you’re Aomine Daiki-kun?" was the first, matter-of-fact inquiry. Quickly followed by, "If you aren’t, then you’re too young to be in my place. Get out."

"Yeah, that’s my name. Listen, I’m not great at interviews, so take it easy on me-"

"No interview. I believe you’re a good boy who’ll follow what needs to be done around here. That is, if you want to get paid." The woman eyed him with a shrewd sort of air. "I think you can figure out the fact that this position would be paid under-the-table because of your age. So if I don’t like how you’re behaving while you’re here, I have no problem just withholding your salary as is necessary."

"Geez, you’re something." Aomine could almost admire her guff, had he not been concerned about the not-being-paid aspect part of things. That was kind of a deal breaker on his end, and he was questioning whether he could rein himself in enough to not ruffle this lady’s feathers.

"You have to be if you own a business. Otherwise slimy bastards out there will walk all over you. By the way, my name’s Sumiko. Somehow, I don’t see you as the type of good boy to use all his honorifics like he should, so I’ll look past you calling me by that alone." Sumiko broke off in the midst of her introduction, switching to rifling through the large handbag at her side. Unable to come up with anything brilliant to say, Daiki silently watched her look around.

"On this paper is my cell phone number. Only use it if something serious turns up, or we get a business call here in the store that either of you can’t deal with on your own. Oh yes," she indicated a finger toward where she’d emerged from just earlier, "back there somewhere should be my nephew. He’ll act as your boss while I’m out for the day. We close at 10:30, so don’t skip out before then and help him lock up."

"Will do," he grabbed the contact info from her and decided to head for the rear of the store. He didn’t imagine his duties would be anything too complicated, but he at least needed to know what they were. The only way he was going to find that out was by meeting up with his new co-worker.

His blinding optimism was soon torn down like the idiocy it was.

"Well well, isn’t this a spectacle for the ages. My little kouhai finally joining the workforce!"

The tone of voice Shouichi spoke in rose all the fine hairs at the base of his neck; it was the promise of a firm hand in the workplace personified.

It was one thing to blow the raven off for basketball practice - he had enough talent on the court to stymie any attempts to convince him that he needed to show up, and Imayoshi dealt with it. It was quite another to be the guy’s subordinate at work, and the indigo-haired teen knew that without being told. Apart from that, Imayoshi seemed far too delighted by the prospect. He had to have a scheme formulating in that calculating brain of his. Or was that just what he wanted Aomine to think (read: worry) about?

"Guess working in this sort of place suits you," he muttered, plastering his best disinterested face on and walking deeper into the back room. He sidled past the other and threw his coat and belongings into the employee closet.

"It isn’t my first choice of profession, but my aunt insisted she could use the help. As family, I am far more trustworthy than someone she could hire off the streets. I do care about her success, after all."

"Yeah and I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she can pay you as little as she wants because you’re underage," Daiki contributed, revolving to join the captain at the rickety table. "You can tell she likes to keep costs low. Just look at this junk, for one." He gripped one edge of the surface in front of him, shaking it slightly to show off the uneven fourth leg.

"Very observant," the elder teen allowed, securing his mug before Daiki upended it with his inept examination. "However, I happen to be paid a very generous salary. I must be loved!" He flashed the youth a saccharine grin before drinking down a long draw of tea. "Of course, that’s thanks to the power of negotiation. You could try to work something out with her later if you like. I’d try being a good little worker bee for a while first. Not really your strength though, is it?"

The taunt garnered a veritable torrent of oaths from Aomine, which was all comfortably within Imayoshi’s expectations. He didn’t make a point of stepping on landmines accidentally, and could use the entertainment. He wasn’t kidding when he had told his junior that this place wasn’t his style. Supposed hormonal bundle that he was as a teenaged boy, Shouichi had always considered his likes and dislikes to be more elegant than his peers. Mere lurid images and movies with dismally simple-minded plots didn’t get his blood pumping.

Outbursts from a fiery spirit such as Daiki, peppered with creative threats to do him bodily harm, though, those _were_ thrilling. Given the reality that the hours of their tenure were long and actual jobs to do in the store limited, this interaction would have to suffice.

He wasn’t about to be bored on the clock and Aomine was going to help him with that, knowingly or otherwise.

* * *

Daiki was getting used to the routine he’d developed a few hours in on his first day, stocking new editions of various periodicals. He’d put away the magazines he was least interested in first, that way he’d seem mildly productive, and slowly worked his way up to replacing ones featuring buxom babes in skimpy amounts of clothing. Over those, he’d linger, narrow indigo irises memorizing each tantalizing curve thoroughly before setting the book in the spot it belonged.

Business here was a constant ebb and flow. Imayoshi and he could go near an hour without seeing another soul other than themselves, but then a group of customers would stumble in. Girls were the ones who seemed to pour in with their friends - giggling and then straightening up their posture, trying to act unaffected by the ribald products lining every wall.

The men came by mostly by their lonesome, mission in mind and only stopping when they found the target of their lustful imaginations amongst the shelves. Daiki was learning how to tell which would man up and ask to use the viewing room in the back, and which wanted to leave the store giving away as little information as possible about their kinks. It wasn’t as easy to guess as one might think.

Before he knew it, he’d been employed for his first seven-day stretch and he wasn’t feeling stressed out in the least.

Mostly, he was looking forward to the paycheck. There was a pair of basketball shoes he’d already picked out during a stint of window shopping. Satsuki (and his mom) weren’t going to be happy that that’s what he spent it on, given he already owned countless pairs, but it was his choice, and that’s what he wanted to spend it on. Having the kind of power that came from having your own money was heady, and Daiki was a big fan of it thus far.

It stood to reason that he’d hit a lucky streak, nabbing this job. Fate, even. Even though he had to put up with the constant prickle upon his skin that he felt being on Imayoshi’s radar, it was a small price to pay for this slice of freedom.

Then again, even that guy hadn’t been as bad as Daiki had predicted. Oddly pleasant, compared to their usual interactions at school. That was the major reason why he wasn’t skeptical when, at the end of Saturday’s shift - another night with them running the store alone - it appeared Imayoshi had a gift for him.

"Color me impressed. You’ve actually been helpful for a week straight." Shouichi reached into a drawer amongst the cupboards, pulling out what looked suspiciously like his favorite gravure publication’s newest edition and shoving it at him. "Thus, I thought I’d encourage that behavior with a little reward. You may submit your gratitude in the form of attending practice for one afternoon in this coming seven day-period."

"If this is to thank me, then why the hell do I have to thank you, bastard? That’s not how it works," Daiki pointed out.

"My apologies, but as captain I have to _try_ to get you in the door occasionally.” A smarmy grin flashed in his direction. “Enjoy the pictures, then.”

The raven’s word had a ring of finality to them, but even so, he made no move to depart, instead leaning back against the counter as if waiting for Aomine to pry open the book and start gazing. Unnerving as it was, the indigo-haired youth ignored the eccentricity and gave into curiosity, prying open the first article his fingers decreed and scanning the contents for hints of his favorite models. Eventually, after the point where his similarly colored eyes glazed over, he rather forgot he had an audience at all while reading.

That was his first mistake.

"You know, you are _adorable_.. when you have something you like, Daiki-kun-“

A spectacular chill threaded down his spine as those words materialized so closely against his skin, lilting right in the curve of his ear when he least expected something to be lurking there. Juxtaposed with the sudden use of his given name, the ace was caught starkly off guard, more than uncomfortably aware whose hot gusts of air were singing his neck right now. None of this did anything to help the situation already tenting his basketball shorts. Unsavory as it was, the captain had snared him in a vulnerable position, and Aomine was unsure of how to counter the surprise foray.

Never mind the fact that a fucking _guy_ was practically cooing to him. That was just the rotten cherry on top of the current shenanigan unfolding.

"What the f-hey, ow!"

His cry of protest quickly remodeled into a grunt of something else when he felt teeth nip at his earlobe, serrating the fragile surface with a vengeful spirit. Both Daiki’s hands abandoned the two-page spread of Mai-chan spreadeagled on the hood of a car, shooting upward to clutch at the wrists of the hands attempting to remove his shirt. His reflexes were swift, swift enough to halt the illicit movements, but, instead of feeling like he’d won, Daiki was cowed by the sensation of the fingers he hadn’t managed to cut off tracing rakishly against his bared chest. They carefully rubbed over the taut canvas within reach, skirting dangerously close to the minute-sized buds crowning either side.

"Don’t fucking touch-"

"You’ve never tried it here, have you, kouhai? Never tried feeling up your own breasts… strange, considering how appallingly obsessed you seem to be with the female variety."

Imayoshi butted free of the restrictive grip containing him, seizing the advantage. Without the slightest bit of warning, he pulled each mound between the first two fingers of either hand, quickly engendering a rhythm that caused them to stiffen, skin tightening with the onset of arousal. Before Aomine could get a word in edgewise, his mouth was occupied with a horrible alternative, the captain’s lips melding firm to his own.

His senses were so bamboozled that he was undecided of whether to try to break away or give into the onslaught.

The digits harshly massaging at his nipples were scarily skillful, dragging a muffled groan out of him which Shouichi drank down, swiping his tongue against Daiki’s palate with grand flourish. The older boy’s actions were well-calculated, subtle like a grasp in the dark yet enveloping as a tidal wave. He didn’t have the presence of mind to combat them, and a large part of his libido probably wouldn’t have fought if it did. It was humiliating to be toyed with, but somehow that only made the pleasure beautifully jagged. Later on he might be annoyed with himself for allowing the demonic bastard to touch him, but for now, Aomine took it in stride.

Capitalizing on the brief moment where Imayoshi released his mouth, the younger smirked, mood change evident when he challenged, “I want more.”

Shouichi chuckled through the frown that briefly lit his lips. “Brat. Ask _nicely_ or you’ll go with out anything.”

"Right, and your dick will fall off from not getting it either. You’re bluffing."

"I’ll pin you down and do what I want, ungrateful little punk."

It was unfortunate, but his dark side was showing. Imayoshi had anticipated a tough capture when strategizing this encounter with his kouhai, but he’d in fact underestimated the sheer gall of the brat in question. Aomine should tread more carefully, or he’d actually carry through on his words. Perhaps that’s what the ace had come to want. He couldn’t be certain of what went on in that idiot’s mind at any given time.

"I’m incredibly scared."

Insubordinate lips sucked at the curve of his jaw, the youth turning his head at an awkward angle to reach the smooth skin. Imayoshi’s hand idly pushed Aomine’s midnight-hued head further down, transferring the attentions to the more inviting flesh of his neck. Catching on rapidly, he suckled messily at the expanse, beginning to form an impressive mark there. The raven allowed his voice to praise Aomine’s actions, issuing out a soft groan as the boy mouthed at his collarbone. The sensation was sharp, but eminently pleasant.

He still had other plans, though.

Foisting his hand down the front of Daiki’s shorts, he took him in hand, giving a few quick pumps that effectively coaxed the younger’s voice out into the open. His cock pulsed hotly in Imayoshi’s palm, and fluid started to swim down the stalk, easing the dryness that had flourished prior. Nice and wet, he more slowly stroked at the tip, fisting the spongy head and drinking in the moans that echoed close to his ear. Beautiful, truly.

How he was going to enjoy their nights together in the future.

Aomine’s cock itself was a grand specimen, thick and standing proudly up amongst midnight blue curls. Pair that with the heave of the youth’s well-muscled abdominals, and you had a sight to behold. More so, he loved playing with it. Fingering the calid length and watching Aomine come undone had to be one of the best ideas Shouichi had developed in a while.

He switched toys, rolling the ace’s blood-heavy sac together, earning a few fervent thrusts upward meant for him. Shouichi let his eyes fall completely shut, mind internally salivating at the chance to experience that destructive power when it was to his benefit. First though, he needed to end his kouhai’s misery, at least once. Then they could play for longer.

Feeling the pace kick up a notch, Daiki’s hand fell away from where it had been reaching for the raven, both palms gripping tight to the seat of the chair he was in, stubbornly refusing to give in that easily. Shouichi’s hand massaged him artfully, short, punishing strokes that magnified the pressure coiling low in his belly and grew it too intense to fight against.

Thighs trembling from the strain of keeping it in, he groaned hoarsely and finally spilled, pearly strands of cum spurting over Imayoshi’s digits and dripping down to the floor. Aomine struggled to gasp for breath, all his stamina wiped out by the power of that finish. Unlike any he’d ever experienced, he felt milked out of everything he had to give, and he fucking enjoyed it. A satisfying lightness engulfed his body, and for a moment, one blissful moment, he didn’t worry about anything other than how exhilarating it had felt to have the fox’s hand jerking him into nirvana.

This was seriously going to wreak havoc on his mind later though, Daiki already knew. For one thing, he didn’t know where the hell this meant they were headed from here on out. He didn’t want to get into that conversation, either.

Imayoshi’s breathing behind him had become noticeably strained, and the indigo-haired’s pulse galloped. What was coming next? It kind of scared him that that question in his head felt more like one asked out of interest rather than fear. Images of what he could do to help his captain along flooded his brain, and, were he not the supremely unaffected soul that he was when it came to perverted things, Daiki would have turned cherry red.

He happened to glance down for a second, not sure if he should even attempt to clean up a little before pouncing on the raven, and that was when _it_ caught his eye.

There between his feet lay the magazine he’d been scanning before any of this took place, flopped open to the same enticing spread he’d last read. Nothing about that was strange, however, there was a problem. A major problem. A generous glob of his essence was covering his beloved idol’s glossy face and chest, having flooded down without his notice.

Aomine gaped spectacularly, unable to come up with any words that accurately stated his despair.

Following the line of his sorrowful gaze, the captain snickered huskily. “Now, now, I’m sure it would have found its way there eventually.”

Shouichi laid a suspiciously chaste kiss to one of Daiki’s ears before moving for the first time in this encounter to stand in front of him. He pried the periodical from the younger’s grasp and tossed it haphazardly to the vantage of the nearest counter. It was then that he honed in on his prey.

"Your turn," the raven teased, fingering the marked bulge of his jeans.

Aomine inwardly startled. Well now, what the fuck was he going to do with that?


End file.
